


Got Your Six

by etrangerici



Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Don't mess with Jack's kids, Episode Related, Jack can't help but pick up strays, Jack is so done with Gibbs' bullshit, Jethro Gibbs Being an Asshole, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etrangerici/pseuds/etrangerici
Summary: Tony makes friends with an Air Force General at his local YMCA. When that same General shows up at the office for a favor, things get interesting, quickly. Mentions of events from NCIS Bait, Bloodbath, Hiatus 2 & Faking It. O'Neill impresses Gibbs with his concern over Tony's well-being. Idiots in love, now with head trauma.





	1. Chapter 1

“So this is where you go when you’re not corrupting the youth.”

Tony’s head shot up and he gaped at the uniformed man standing in front of his desk. “O’Neill?”

“DiNozzo.” Jack looked around the bullpen with interest. Tony figured he’d be able to identify all of the other agents and possibly list the details off their day planners by the time the survey was complete.

“Major General?” Tony hesitated, still trying to align his buddy from the Y with the polished flag officer standing before him. “Or should I say, Sir?” He focused on his friend’s badges and medals, filing the image away to process later. He’d need to look a couple of them up.

“Why, is Sec Nav standing behind me?” Jack raised a brow and a grin fluttered across his face before he sobered. “You got a minute? I need to talk to you, sort of in your official capacity.”

“What does a zoomie need with NCIS?” Tony asked as he rose to his feet. Before Jack could answer, the elevator pinged and Gibbs stalked around the corner.

“DiNozzo?”

“Boss! You’re back.” Tony didn’t miss a beat, smoothly rounding his desk to stand between the two men. This had the potential to go downhill fast – two of the most alpha guys he knew sharing space: not good. “This is Major General Jack O’Neill – that’s with two l’s – from the Pentagon.” Jack inclined his head.

“And?” Gibbs just stared steadily at Jack, sipping his coffee with a faintly menacing air. Jack’s best shark’s grin spread across his face. Tony sighed, sure that jarhead-baiting was something at which his friend excelled. This was going to be a long day.

“He was just going to tell me.” Tony quirked a brow at Jack, who was showing no signs of getting tired of grinning at Gibbs. Tony recognized a comprehensive character assessment when he saw it and so, too, would his boss.

“Yeah, about that,” Jack glanced around the bullpen again, “got anywhere a little more secure where we can talk?” He tucked his cover under his arm and casually slid his hands into his pockets, the picture of ease. Tony didn’t even have to look at his boss, he felt Gibbs go to DEFCON 2.

“My office.” Gibbs growled. Tony barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes and gestured for Jack to precede him to the elevators.

Jack pursed his lips when Gibbs hit the emergency stop. “Interesting use of resources here, Gunny.”

“What do you want?”

“Got a little issue, kind of a loose end that I need to take care of. I could use DiNozzo’s help.”

“What kind of loose end?”

“The awake at 0300 kind.”

“Our problems or theirs?”

“Neither.”

Gibbs never took his eyes off the other man and Tony could see a complex exchange take place. It wasn’t often his lack of military experience left him feeling insecure, but times like this Tony felt out of his depth. These two special ops vets, speaking in a shorthand born of long days and nights behind enemy lines, with nothing but the team and the target, had seen and done things Tony could only imagine.

“’Take care of’ how?” Gibbs’ tone didn’t change much, but Tony caught the sharpening of interest in it.

“Depends on what I find.”

“Where?”

“Leavenworth.”

Gibbs paused at that and Tony could tell that answer was unexpected. He decided he’d been a good boy for long enough and asked, “why me?”

“I need somebody with a good lay-up.” Jack’s answer pissed Gibbs off, but Tony had a feeling that it was the absolute truth, if not the whole story.

“How long?” Gibbs was growling again, but Tony didn’t take it personally.

“A day, maybe. Two, max.” Jack looked at Tony, then back to Gibbs and appeared to reach a decision. “Look, there’s a lot of classified crap that I can’t talk about, but I’ll read you in as far as possible, just not here, okay?”

“DiNozzo goes nowhere without me.” Tony couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. Jack smiled smugly, like he’d won a bet against all odds. Tony closed his mouth with a snap at Gibbs’ glare. “When?”

“Tomorrow. You’ll get a case that’ll cover your absence here and we’ll fly out of Andrews at 0530.” Jack bounced slightly on his heels and smirked, “don’t eat breakfast.”

Gibbs grunted and released the emergency hold on the elevator. Not for the first time, Tony wondered just how Gibbs got away with his elevator abuse. They were silent for the ride to ground level, where Jack waved a cheerful goodbye and got into a large black truck driven by a large black man. Tony donned his sunglasses and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, pondering imponderables like Jack’s apparent lack of a staff car and driver, the likelihood that an Air Force Major General needed his lay-up for a mission in Kansas, and Gibbs’ odd territoriality.

Right on cue, Gibbs spoke. “Tell me everything you know about Major General O’Neill.”

Just like that, things snapped back to normal. “He plays an okay game of horse, but he’s hell on wheels at street hockey, especially now that that he got his knees fixed.” Tony expected the head slap and wasn’t disappointed. “Met him at the Y. He’s been in DC for a little less than a year, works at the Pentagon – don’t know what he does there, it’s locked down tighter than Ducky’s scotch – but he’s known at the White House and on the Hill. Spent a good bit of his career as a Colonel, last decade or so at NORAD, again mum’s the word on his assignment. Had about a year as a Brigadier out there, then received the last promotion and moved here. This is the first time I’ve seen him in uniform. I’ll look into the fruit salad when we get back upstairs.” Tony had also noted the license plate of Jack’s truck and would run that as well.

Gibbs hitched a shoulder, muttered “coffee” and started walking. Tony automatically followed, a half step behind and to the right before continuing. “Weird thing is, I’ve seen a couple of the older guys at the gym – the ones that used to be down Hurlburt Field way – practically genuflect for him. Only other time I’ve seen that kind of reaction was with Ernie. Not sure what that’s all about, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s been there and done that and has a whole lot of t-shirts. Likes hockey, beer and The Simpsons, in that order, knows more than you do about round ball, talks about getting a bike but hasn’t done it yet, hates golf and despises politics.”

Gibbs grunted. Tony grinned and continued. “I see him every couple weeks, between the Y, the bar and the neighborhood. He’s a good guy, Gibbs.”

They’d arrived at the coffee shop and Gibbs went inside while Tony slouched on the bench outside and enjoyed the sunshine. He wasn’t especially pleased to be keeping secrets from his boss, but under no circumstances would he mention the hours of conversation – under the guise of beer and sports – that he had shared with Jack. He could count on one hand the people he’d clicked that hard with and Gibbs didn’t need to know. He was surprised out of his reverie when Gibbs slapped a pastry bag into his chest and held out a cup of tea.

“Watch yourself with O’Neill, DiNozzo,” was all Gibbs said as they returned to the office.

Sure enough, when they got back, there were orders waiting for Gibbs that were very creatively vague but had them reporting to Andrews at oh-dark-thirty the next morning. Gibbs scowled. Tony smirked, thinking that the next few days were going to be entertaining. Jack seemed to push Gibbs’ buttons almost as well as Tony did. He wiped all expression off his face as he felt his boss’s laser-like gaze heading his way. Instead, he focused on pulling up the info they’d need.

 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 

Their military transpo to Kansas was typically expedient, for values of ‘expedient’ that equaled a Major General and his sphinx-like sidekick (yeah, _sure_ his name’s Murray) hurrying Tony and Gibbs into flight suits and then pushing them into the second seats of two F-16s. The sun had barely cleared the horizon when the fighters were screaming into the sky. Jack said he needed the flight hours, but Tony suspected he just wanted to play with his toys. Either way, Tony was thrilled and was eventually able to charm Murray into a few barrel rolls.

Vipers? Yeah, they even beat involuntary parachuting.

It took three head smacks to knock Tony’s brightest grin off his face. Turned out Gibbs had not had nearly as much fun playing Jack’s RIO.

 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 

Finally, over plates of eggs, pancakes and truly impressive amounts of home fries and hash, Jack started talking. Tony kept shoveling food in, listening to a highly edited tale of theft, an undercover sting, treason and a long (mostly) honorable career ended badly. He was getting an inkling when Gibbs asked what the need for them (him) was.

Jack was twirling his fork, visibly reluctant to talk. “I served with Makepeace for years. He saved my ass and a whole lot more on more than a few occasions. He was a good man and a solid Marine. He made some crappy decisions and got caught doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

The friend, Murray, didn’t say anything but shifted minutely in his seat. Jack gave a slight shoulder twitch that Tony knew meant ‘message received’ and ‘thanks.’ These guys had been through a whole lot together, he knew, because that kind of subliminal communication didn’t come from simple familiarity.

“I’ve looked deeper into the situation and found a whole lot of bad intel was spread around, until the bad guys had people so scared that falling in with their line seemed the only reasonable choice,” Jack sighed, “or, if that didn’t work they had other ways to apply pressure. Makepeace has a sister with a degenerative disease. Turns out, someone found out and squeezed him – doesn’t matter how – but now that I know, I can’t let this go.”

“You saying he isn’t still guilty?” Gibbs’ face was impassive.

“Nope, he did the deed, but there may have been a bit more to things. Certain people might have overlooked some mitigating circumstances to make sure they stayed safe while we patted ourselves on the back for capturing their fall guy.”

“Time served?”

“It’s been over four years.”

“Sister’s deteriorating?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Still doesn’t tell me what you need DiNozzo for.”

“DiNozzo’s a cop down to the ground.” Jack said simply. “He also has some of the best instincts I’ve seen and he’s got the big dumb goof routine down so pat the perps are probably begging to confess to him.”

Gibbs smiled – a very tiny smile, but still – at that. Tony put his fork down and took a big swallow of orange juice to cover his surprise.

“He’s also a hell of a basketball player, something which Makepeace takes very seriously. I need a fresh set of eyes on the situation. I need to know what the man’s thinking and feeling about all this and I need him not to know it’s me doing the asking. I have a small window here where I can maybe set things right, but I can’t risk doing anything if I don’t have the right read on my man in there.”

“You still see him as yours?” Gibbs and Tony heard the grudging respect.

“You ever leave a man behind, Gibbs?” Jack’s tone was harsh.

“Once.” Gibbs’ glance didn’t waver.

“Sucks, doesn’t it.”

“Yup.” Gibbs’ broke the stare at last and finished his coffee. “Guess we better get going then.”

 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 

So that was that. Tony went into Leavenworth as some kind of writer-therapist on a one-time assessment gig. He played a little basketball with Makepeace (who had one hell of a jump-shot) and talked with the guy over bottles of Gatorade until the sweat dried and the itching drove them to their separate showers.

 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 

Back at the diner for chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, corn-on-the-cob, old-fashioned lemon and cherry cokes and a lemon meringue pie that nearly had Tony and Jack in ecstasy, Tony delivered his verdict.

“The guy’s bitter, but at the right people.” He paused in licking his spoon and replayed his words in his head, “I mean, he’s bitter at the bad guys – he knows he got played and that they set him up. He’s pissed with himself that he made it so easy for them and he’d love to take them down, but other than that? The guy’s harmless.” Tony’s eyes fell on Gibbs and he hastily revised his statement. “Well, as harmless as an ex-Marine Colonel can be, which is entirely not the little-old-lady variety of harmless.”

Gibbs eyes rolled and Tony wisely filled his mouth with more meringue to shut himself up, then changed tack. “He’s also quietly desperate about his sister’s health and worried as hell that he can’t be there for her.”

Jack and Murray made eye contact and had a whole conversation of head tilts, eyebrow twitches and lip pursing that Tony couldn’t begin to follow. He did catch that plans were made and neither he nor Gibbs would ever hear any more about it.

They got rooms in a nearby motel for the night, since Jack was trying to maintain a low profile at the local AFB. Tony flipped channels for hours and wondered what Jack and Gibbs had talked about on the flight that had left his boss so out of sorts.

He fell asleep at last and had dreams all night that he was Doug Masters to Jack’s Chappy Sinclair and they were both flying into enemy airspace to rescue Gibbs. He woke up feeling decidedly pissed at his subconscious, which had presented him with an erotically grateful Gibbs and had him humming Queen songs all morning.

The second Viper ride, this time with Jack at the stick and all the trick flying the fuel tanks could handle, wiped those thoughts away.

Mostly.

 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 

A few months later, Tony had nearly forgotten his experience in Kansas. He’d missed about a month at the Y, Gibbs had nearly been blown up in a high school and, most recently, his boss had completely melted down after Abby’s near-murder. Tony still had bruises and a slightly shell-shocked look about him when Jack popped into the bullpen again.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks.” Jack paused while Tony blinked at him, “so, you know… thanks!”

“Don’t mention it.” Tony gritted out. He’d seen on the news just the month before that there had been an unexplainable escape from Leavenworth. He was trying hard not to wonder about it.

“Well,” Jack started.

“No – REALLY – don’t mention it. It could cost me my job.”

“Point.”

“So, is that it? You heading back to your hutch now?”

“Nice one. But no, not just yet. Walk with me?”

“What, now?”

“Sure, it’s lunchtime. Come for a walk.” Jack grinned ingratiatingly and Tony had nodded and stood before he thought.

“You’re dangerous.” He groused while they headed to the elevator.

“Nah, not anymore.” The shark grin flashed before Jack sobered. “So, how’s things with your Marine?”

“What do you mean ‘my Marine’ – you mean Gibbs? What are you trying to say?”

“Geez, DiNozzo, relax. I’m just asking because I haven’t seen you around much lately and the last time I saw the two of you, you were both so much in denial I thought the combined effect of all that sublimated sexual tension would blow up – no pun – the Naval Yard. I’d hoped you’d gotten lucky.”

Tony froze and after a few steps Jack stopped and turned when he realized Tony was no longer beside him. Tony was gaping like a fish. “Sublimated…”

“Yes. Now hold that thought for a second.” Jack hustled Tony across the lobby, through security and out the door before he could get another word out. “He’s crazy about you, DiNozzo.”

“He’s not. He thinks I’m a screw up.”

“Please, his close rate with you on the team is in the stratosphere. The FBI would hire you in a heartbeat if Fornell wasn’t shit-scared of what Gibbs’d do to him if he offered and I know that people from a of couple agencies-that-shall-remain-nameless have made inquiries that got shot down – rudely – by your Marine. He does not think you’re a screw up. He might be the only one at NCIS that gets what you’re capable of, but you can be sure he’s very well aware of it.”

Tony stopped walking. “Gibbs?”

“Look, as one village idiot to another, you’re secret’s safe with me. You want to keep telling people you majored in gym and girls and leave stuff out of your public files, you go right ahead. It works for you and you certainly get a whole lot less grief than you would if people know you double majored, Mr. Honors Graduate. Though how you found time for football, basketball, the frat, the dates, the psych minor, and the double major in Physical Education and Criminology is something I will never get. Did you ever sleep?”

“You’re saying he’s known, this whole time?”

“I’m beginning to understand the smacks upside the head.”

Tony ducked said head, registering the knowing smirk. Jack just started walking again, waiting him out.

“He’s never said anything.” Tony hoped he didn’t sound as sulky as he felt.

“Why would he? Have you?”

“Well, no. But if he –“ Tony closed his eyes. “He knew. Of course, he knew.”

“Yup.” Tony caught up to the general and they continued on toward the river.

“Why didn’t he ever say anything?”

“C’mon, DiNozzo, stupid doesn’t work with me.”

“Sorry, sometimes I really am stupid.” Tony ducked his head again. “All this time?” Tony couldn’t fathom it. For years he’d hoped Gibbs would eventually see behind the mask. See him. And to find out, now… and after last night….

“DiNozzo…” Jack stopped and it was all Tony could do not to squirm under the steady gaze. He was worse than Gibbs. This was someone who knew and understood and was not about to let him off the hook. Tony wondered if someday he’d be eyeing some punk kid the same way. “You’re his second in command. What did you think that meant?”

“I’ve been here the longest.”

“Don’t be an ass. The man’s a Marine to his core.”

“I don’t -“

“Aht!”

“But –“

“No ‘buts,’ now cut the crap and stop thinking like the last unclaimed puppy in the pound and think like a Marine for a minute. Christ knows you’ve had practice.”

It took a minute for Tony to get past the puppy image, but once he did, once he started looking at his life as if it were an undercover assignment, and it started making sense. If he were playing second in command to a gunny with Gibbs’ experience and history, he’d have to prove himself. _Semper fi_ was all well and good, but no Marine ever really trusted anyone until they’d been through combat together. Once that bond was formed, it was almost impossible to break. It was bedrock.

He’d had to prove himself. Like Kate did, like Ziva and McGee did.

And he had.

God, it couldn’t be that simple. That obvious.

“Kate was right,” Tony muttered. “I am a moron.”

“Eh, you had other things on your mind.”

“He was backing my play. The whole time.” Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair, over the dope-slap spot. He wanted to punch something. Maybe Gibbs. Mostly himself.

Jack tucked his hands into his pockets and slouched against the railing. “DiNozzo, the phrase ‘I’ve got your six’ is kinda important, especially to a sniper. If he didn’t trust and respect the hell out of you, he’d never let you cover his back.”

Tony blushed spectacularly.

Jack gaped at him. “Holy crap, that’s why you’re so rattled! You finally did it!”

Tony couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Jack was grinning ear-to-ear and Tony was pretty sure he could really grow to hate the man. He shoved at the elbow poking him in the side and tried not to think of Kate. “See, I knew he needed the shovel speech.”

“Shut up, O’Neill.” Tony grumbled, then he actually processed what had just been said. “Shovel speech?” He asked in a low, dangerous tone.

“Sure, from Buffy, c’mon DiNozzo, you can’t tell me that – “

“Are you insane?” Tony hissed as he got right up in Jack's face. “The man is my boss! He’s a Marine! You – you just – that’s what happened on the flight out to Kansas, isn’t it?”

“You okay, DiNozzo?” Gibbs’ voice stopped Tony cold. He winced and wondered if now would be a good time to resign. Or, possibly, throw himself into the Anacostia and drown.

“Fine,” Tony ground out from between clenched teeth. Jack continued to grin at him, eyebrows working madly.

“Gibbs,” Jack tilted his head to acknowledge Gibbs over Tony's shoulder, the grin dropping off his face and his eyes going flat. Despite himself, Tony shivered when Gibbs returned the cold look. These guys were scary.

“O’Neill,” Gibbs moved up into Tony’s personal space, obviously staking his claim. Tony wondered, a little hysterically, if one or both of them would be pissing a circle around him soon. He bit his cheek, hard, to keep the laughter under control.

“Still have that shovel.” Jack didn’t straighten to his full height or move in any way, but the threat was suddenly very clear.

“You won’t need it.”

“Good.” Jack nodded and turned back to Tony. “Well, my work here is done, so I need to get going. Like I said, thanks for everything and I hope I’ll see you at the Y before too much longer.” Tony smiled weakly and waved as Jack jogged over to the visitors’ lot.

“Boss,” Tony started, and then realized he had no idea what he wanted to say.

“You were right, DiNozzo, he’s a good guy.” Gibbs slapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder and steered him back toward the office. “Glad you’ve got someone like him looking out for you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tony shook his head, trying to clear it. He kind of hoped the world would slow down for a while, just 'til he figured out what the hell was going on with everyone. Himself most definitely included.

“Not that I mind being threatened with garden tools, but what’s this Buffy thing everyone keeps talking about?” Gibbs asked after Tony had calmed down a little.

Tony barked out a laugh. “It’s a TV show, Jethro. We can watch it tonight if you want to come over.” What the hell, Tony thought. If everyone else was insane, he might as well enjoy it.

“You going to cook, too?” Gibbs smiled. It was a new smile, one that Tony didn’t remember ever seeing before last night.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Why not, it’s running pretty hot right now.” Gibbs let out a quiet oof at the impact of Tony’s elbow in his gut.


	2. Epilogue

**Six Months Later**

  
Gibbs was sanding his boat in the basement when he heard the front door open. Out of habit he tracked the footfalls down the hall and to the basement door, where they stopped. Too heavy to be Ziva, too light to be DiNozzo or Fornell and too measured to be Abby. Whoever it was hadn’t moved from the cellar door, either.

With a curse, Gibbs dropped the sanding block and took the stairs two at a time. At the cellar door he was met with six feet plus of pissed off Air Force Major General. Gibbs blinked as one hand grabbed his shirt firmly, while the other plowed with care and deliberate force into his gut. The hand in his shirt hauled him the rest of the way through the door and slammed him into the wall beside it.

“Now, no-longer-retired-Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I’m not sure whether what passes for your brain will remember me or not, but we had an agreement concerning one Anthony DiNozzo. It involved me letting you live, as long as you didn’t hurt him. Ringing any bells?” Gibbs winced as his head was bounced off the wall, again carefully. There was an art to inflicting pain without causing permanent damage and apparently O’Neill was a master. The military, Gibbs thought as his head bounced off the wall again, left all the really important things out of their personnel files.

“Yeah, I remember. Where’s your shovel?” Gibbs thought about fighting back, but knew he pretty much deserved whatever O’Neill wanted to throw at him.

“Don’t tempt me, Gibbs, I can find one easily.” O’Neill was livid and Gibbs could only be grateful that the other man had himself under control. “I could take you out right here and fix it so that not even your Ms. Sciuto could find the body. The only thing stopping me is the fact that for some unfathomable reason, Tony still has a little faith in you. He thinks you’re memory’s still messed up and he’s killing himself coming up with excuses for your behavior.” Gibbs’ flinched and had to close his eyes against the contempt in the other man’s gaze.  
  
O’Neill’s hand moved up to his throat, where he applied pressure that would render Gibbs unconscious before too long. “I’m not so sure, but I will give you a chance – and let’s be very clear on this, Gibbs, this is your last chance – to get your head out of your ass and start to deserve the faith he’s placed in you.” O’Neill cocked his head a little and his tone softened to a silky whisper, “did you know that while you were out chasing you’re buddy Franks all over town, Tony was in the emergency room being treated for a concussion, Gibbs? He went home AMA, as usual, and he’s there now, wondering what the fuck he did wrong. How many concussions is that, Gibbs?”

Gibbs eyes flicked to O’Neill’s, shocked. “You know, I think I was wrong about you. I was never really sure you deserved a guy like Tony, but I was pretty sure you were a solid Marine. So much for _semper fi,_ huh Gibbs? What kind of Marine are you that you abandon your man like that? How many times are you going to leave him twisting in the wind?” O’Neill braced a leg, pulled Gibbs off the wall and Gibbs was free but sprawled on the floor, his ears ringing from yet another knock, this one off the floor. “I changed my mind. You’re not just a piss-poor excuse for a man; you’re a disgrace to the uniform.”

Gibbs heard the door slam and he knew he was alone but it was still a while before he moved. When he did, it was to splash some cold water on his face and stare at himself in the bathroom mirror. Finally, he gathered up his keys and his wallet and went to make sure DiNozzo was okay and try to rebuild part of what he’d been so carelessly been tearing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting for a while and I figure it's better posted than rotting in my hard drive. There are some elements that I've apparently adopted as my own personal canon - Makepeace having a sister, for one, so they might sound familiar if you've read my Rough Trade work.


End file.
